


I will always love you, plain and simple.

by TheUsagi1995



Series: Stories for Season/Series 12 of SPN [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, But does not have spoilers of that episode, Comforting Dean, Dean Talks About Feelings, Dean Winchester Loves Sam Winchester, Declarations Of Love, Desk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Sam, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Post-Episode: s12e04 American Nightmare, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Loves Dean Winchester, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUsagi1995/pseuds/TheUsagi1995
Summary: Taking place after S12E04: American Nightmare.But has no actual spoilers. You can read it and place it whenever you like, so long it is placed after S12E03.Stand-alone, one shot.Sam and Dean are in the bunker, and Dean is still mad and hurt due to Mary's departure. Sam goes into his room and tries to make him feel better by offering sex. But when the older man pushes Sam away, the young Winchester comes to the simple conclusion, that his brother got what he wanted, what he needed from Amara. And what he needed, what Dean needs, is no him.Seeing what is happening, Dean takes matters into his own hands, and makes sure, that Sam knows that Dean will always love him. Plain and simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to you all!! So, I've been wanting to write this for some time now, and well, here it is. I don't know if it's good, but then again, I never really do... That's your decicion to make!!  
> Hope that you are all doing great and that you are happy!!! :)  
> Enjoy!! :)

Sam sighed wearily as he leaned on the closed door of his brother's room. The young man knew that Dean needed some time alone, to deal with their mother's departure, and he was okay with it, even if it meant he had ended up tied up in a basement, facing a woman who thought her daughter was the Devil. No, all that Sam could and already, had forgiven. What he couldn't stand however, was the fact that, as soon as they had returned back home, his brother had for yet another time, shut himself away from Sam, and was drinking himself to oblivion.

 

Sam let his eyes flutter close and raised his hand, knocking the door of Dean's room, well aware that his brother was still wide awake, despite having returned from a hunt during which, he hadn't slept at all. “Come in, Sam.” Dean's low and hoarse from the drink voice was heard, and the younger man let himself in the room, noticing his brother was lying on the bed fully clothed, glass of whiskey in between his hands. Judging by the half-emptied bottle, which was placed on the nightstand, Sam could tell, that the glass his brother was having at the moment, wasn't the first he had.

 

“What is it Sam?” Dean rasped, avoiding his brother's gaze. “Um, nothing really, I just wanted to... see how you were doing.” Sam replied, as he walked towards the side of his brother's bed. “I'm not the one who spend the entirety of the previous night tight up, locked in a basement. So I guess I'm doing great.” Dean said, voice sharp, much sharper than he wanted it to be. Letting out a breath, the green eyed man pressed his hand on his face, speaking again. “What do you want Sam, do you need anything?” He finally muttered and the younger man grabbed the small chance which had been presented, taking a seat on the bed.

 

“How about... Letting go of the whiskey for tonight, yeah?” Sam spoke, voice gentle, hand taking a hold of the glass his brother was holding. “You said you had cleared your head last night, so-” “So what, I'm not allowed to have a drink?” “Dean, you already had too many drinks, in fact you've been drinking much more than you used to. So how about giving me the glass?” Sam muttered, voice still low and calm. The older man huffed, but eventually did as he was asked, and Sam smiled, placing the glass on the nightstand, and he then turned around, lying on the bed, hovering over his brother. “Sam-” “Dean, I know it's bothering you, what happened with mom, but it will work out okay?” The younger man said, lips nipping at Dean's ear.

 

“Sam, I told you I'm fine, besides-” “Good, now you're going to be better than fine, so stop your nagging.” The younger man replied, as his mouth was moving from Dean's ear, down to his jaw and neck. “Sam, you're tired and edgy, so how about letting this task for another time?” Dean spoke again, placing his palms on Sam's shoulders, pushing the young man a few inches away from him. “Dean, I'm fine, I can rest later, besides, I want to do this too, spend some time with you here, I want to make you feel good, I want to give you...” But here Sam's face lost its color and his eyes widened, as his breath got caught in his throat.

 

 

 

Dean's own eyes flew open at the sight and his hands moved in less than a heartbeat, taking Sam's face in them, holding it in a vice-like grip. As the younger man took in a shaky breath, Dean felt small drops of salty water meeting his fingertips and froze. “Sam? Hey, what, what is it? Sam, are you hurt or something?” Dean questioned, voice high pitched, his hands grabbing Sam's paling face even harder, as though they could somehow contain the color which seemed to all have been drained from it, leaving it whiter than the wall.

 

 

Sam, speak to me!” Dean demanded and the younger man found himself unable to disobey. Clearing his voice as much as possible, he managed to speak. “I want to give you... Something you apparently don't want.” The young man uttered, hands sweating and shaking. Dean's face frowned and his green eyes narrowed at the sound of those words, but before he could utter another word, Sam spoke again, his hazel eyes filling with even more tears. “God, why have I been so stupid?” Sam said, voice quivering, panic filling it.

 

“Sam what are you talking about, hey, what the hell, where are you going?” Dean asked, as the younger man released himself from his hold, got up from the bed and headed towards the door. “Sam!” “You don't want this anymore, do you?” “What are you talking about?” “Ever since mom came back, we haven't done anything and at first I thought it was because she was around, then I thought it was because you've been edgy since she left-” “Sam, listen to me, you're not thinking straight.” Dean, who was now on his feet as well said, trying to move closer to his brother. But Sam wasn't paying attention to him. 

 

 

“No, I was wrong... Amara gave you what you needed the most, and that isn't me anymore, and I get it, I really do, it just took me a while, I'm sorry, I'm-” But Dean didn't want to hear another word, so he grabbed Sam by the shoulders, crushing him on his chest, locking his arms around his back. “No, I am not-” “Sam, stop, my God just stop it, okay?” Dean said, feeling his brother starting to shake in his embrace. “How could you possibly think that I don't want this, us, that I don't want you anymore?” The green eyed man questioned, tightening his hold around Sam's back even more.

 

“Let me go Dean!” The younger man rasped, using his hands to push his brother away from him. The next second he was storming out of the door of his brother's room, heading towards the bunker's main room. “Sam, wait, listen to me!” Dean, who was following him down the hall shouted, but his protests were falling on deaf ears. Huffing in annoyance, the green eyed man lashed his hand out, grabbing Sam by the wrist, obliging him to turn around and face him.

 

“Sam, stop, what are you-” “I don't want you to start pretending so as not to hurt me Dean, I should have seen it earlier, and to be honest I had seen it.” Sam said, lowering his voice. The two men had now reached the bunker's main room and Sam tried to free himself from his brother's hold again, but this time he failed and was cornered between Dean's body and one of the many reading desks. “You should have seen what, Sam?” Dean asked, even though he didn't need to hear the answer, for he knew it already and was cursing himself for the attitude he had been having, towards pretty much everyone, the last few days.

 

But for the rest of the people he couldn't care less, it was Sam, who he had indeed pushed away, right after their mother had left the underground bunker. He knew that Sam had been deeply hurt by that incident, as much as Dean had been, but just like always, he had refused to talk about it and had resulted into drinking bottle after bottle of beer, and when they had run out, he turned to whiskey instead. But even before their mother's departure, Dean had kept his distance from his brother, in order to not further confuse and alarm Mary.

 

Should Dean let himself close to Sam, while their mother was there as well, was too risky. He could easily forget that he and Sam were not alone, force of habit you see, and this could end up in Mary finding out about their tangled, weird, messed-up relationship, so the green eyed man had kept Sam at arms length, pretty much since Chuck had appeared before them. The only exception to that was that, one time he and Sam had found themselves in the Impala, a few hours before Dean's suicide mission. There, in those leather seats they had fled, had hid themselves and what they truly were, and had always been, for one another.

 

 

There, inside that car, their one and only true home, they had said their farewell and Dean had taken Sam for seemingly the last time, had buried every inch of his thick, pulsing member inside him, while his hands were roaming all over Sam's lean front, memorizing for yet another time, what they already knew. Savoring for one last time, the feel of Sam's skin, burning with need, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Savoring the curves and the edges, savoring every inch because for all they knew, this was meant to be the end.

 

But it somehow wasn't the end after all, and the two brothers were finally reunited, having achieved a win for both, the world and for themselves as well. But as it would seem, there were things which still needed to be resolved between them. “Sam, listen to me-” “No Dean you seriously don't have to explain yourself to me, I told you I can understand that-” But before the younger man could utter another word, Dean cut him off, his voice covering Sam's quivering one. “You can understand what, Sam? That I've been an absolute dick to everyone, ever since mom left? Yeah, that's something I bet you have no problem understanding.” Dean said, swallowing soundly.

 

 

“What you should have also understood however, is that I will always...” Here, Dean's voice faded, but the green eyed man spoke again, this time in a low tone, making sure that Sam had his eyes on him. “And I mean always, need you, love you, crave for you...” Dean rasped, hands once again cupping his brother's face. “Sam... "I may need mom Sam, and if God's sister thinks so, then I guess it can only be true. So yeah, I need mom and it hurts like hell now that she is gone. But when it comes to you? It's not the same Sam, it could never be the same. What I feel, what I've always felt, has always been more than pure want, or need, more than love, more than adoration even.” The green eyed man said, voice heavy from all the emotions it carried.

 

 

'Dean, I am sorry-” But Dean's tender fingertips moved, from where they had been lingering, in between Sam's brown locks to his lips,stopping them from letting any more words come out. “What exactly it is, that which I'm feeling, I can not say, nor can I name it. Maybe you could try to find a name, I'm sure there must be a word for it inside that encyclopedic mind of yours.” The older man muttered, chuckling slightly, as he beheld Sam's face gaining it's color and softening.

 

 

“But it's there, deep, so fucking deep inside me, that I know it can never and it will never, be ripped out of me. And do you know why? Because mom and... and Cas I may need. The Impala, I love. But I could imagine my world without them. I've survived a world without them Sam, you know it.” At the sound of those words, hazel eyes flew open and Sam's frame trembled, making Dean move even closer to his brother, so that the younger man could feel the warmth coming out of Dean's own body. Opening his mouth, Sam tried to speak, only to be interrupted by his brother yet again.

 

 

“No, no Sam, let me finish this, I need to say it and I know, that you need to hear it, and it's fine that you do.” Dean declared, his deep green eyes fixed on Sam's hazel ones. “So yes, Sam, I could imagine a world without mom, or Cas, or even a world in which I wouldn't have the Impala. But imagine a world without you? That, I can't even try." Dean said, voice low, raw and honest beyond any doubt.  
“To be honest, when Amara showed me that what I needed most was mom, I was stunned for a minute. Because I've always known, that what I have always wanted most, was you.” Dean continued, and Sam lowered his head, looking at the floor so as to hide his tears.

 

 

Dean let his brother do as he liked, knowing that the young man was taken aback by this sudden and rather long speech, which was a huge chick-flick moment. If Dean wanted to be honest with himself, he was surprised as well, but he was feeling like he couldn't stop talking, like he needed to make some things clear. And he really did need that, so for the first time in a long, long while, he let his heart decide. Clearing his throat, he kept talking, voice low, but confident. “But after a while I understood that she had indeed, been right. I didn't really need you.” Dean said, and felt Sam tensing instantly.

 

The green eyed man let his hands travel upwards, from Sam's waist to his ribs and then his broad shoulders, then to both sides of his furled neck, only to end up, cupping his face yet again, slowly and gently lifting it up, so that they could have eye contact. Dean let his thumps brush away the tears which were now falling anew from those astonishing hazel orbs and spoke, making sure to put every bit of honesty he had, in the following phrase.

 

“I didn't need you, I didn't need her to give me you, Sam, because I already had you. For a very long time, ever since the mess with the Mark and my fight with Metatron in fact...” Dean muttered, filling his brother flinching at the sound of that incident, while a shadow haunted his face, “...ever since that time Sam, I've had the feeling that you were truly starting to fit in, in this life and that you were... Here for me.” Dean eventually managed to say, his eyes never leaving big hazel ones. “I had a feeling that... That you were mine.” Sam's mouth almost fell open at that and the younger man hooked his hands on his brother's shirt so as to balance himself. 

 

“Even when Amara seemingly had so much control over me, even when I saw her as my deepest desire, even at the darkest of times, in those hours of the night during which I couldn't sleep because she used to come in my dreams...” Here, Dean paused and Sam gasped, “...Even then Sam, I turned around and look at you sleeping next to me, with those ridiculously long curls of yours been all around your face...” Dean said, his lips forming a smile.

 

 

“Then, I would close my eyes and think of you, lying on the bed, your eyes wide open, your lips ajar and moisturized by my own, I would imagine you saying my name, I would imagine you coming, your muscles clenching around me while you were literally falling apart underneath me...” Sam swallowed hard and soundly at that, suddenly feeling his member hardening within his pants. “And that's how I would fall asleep Sam. Cliche or not, that's how it would happen, for almost one year. 

 

“I've always been yours Dean, you know that...” Sam muttered, voice low and hoarse. “Apparently, I do know that, but do you?” Dean questioned, chuckling. “It's just... I thought that-” “You were right, it had to do with mom being here, and then suddenly not been here and with your injuries and with me being a dick...” Dean said, voice now lighter than before. “But I will always want you Sammy.” The green eyed man declared yet again, his fingers still caressing Sam's face. “I know it Dean-” “Do you?” “Yes, and I'm sorry for the chick-flick overload-” “Do you know it, Sam?” Asked the older man, locking his gaze with Sam's. 

 

 

“Yes.” Was all the younger man could answer as Dean leaned forwards, his lips stopping inches away from Sam's. “Good.” Muttered Dean, as he covered the small gap between them, finally connecting their lips, but keeping the kiss light and sweet, tender even. It was a kiss Sam knew his brother had stored only for him, thus he didn't make any attempts on deepening it, but savored the taste of Dean's lips instead. As they parted, Dean let his hands fall from the sides of Sam's face and travel down his slim body, reaching his cock in a blink of an eye.

 

“Are you still up to it?” The older man questioned, lips now nipping on Sam's pulse point. “I'm always up to it.” Sam replied smiling, his own hands taking a hold of Dean's shoulder's, his big, warm palms creating a cocoon around them. Dean smiled then, and slowly but surely, pushed the younger man back, so that he would be lying with his back on the desk. “Since when do we do that on the desk?” Sam managed to ask, breath getting trapped in his throat as Dean spread his legs apart so as to balance himself better. “Since when do we not?” He replied with a sinfully hot smile. Sam held his gaze for a long moment, and the older man did the same, while letting his hand linger on Sam's chest.

 

 

“Do you know it Sammy?” The green eyed hunter questioned as he unbuttoned Sam's shirt and trousers, lowering the jeans his brother was wearing, eventually managing to take them off completely. Good thing Sam had gotten his shoes off when they had first returned to the bunker. “Do you know how much I love you?” Dean said, voice smooth and low. His hands had moved to his own jeans, unbuttoning them as well, freeing his cock from its prison. “Yes, I told you, yes.” The other man replied, letting his legs lock around Dean's lean waist, bringing them closer. “No Sammy, you don't know.” Dean muttered in the crook of Sam's neck, in a tone which indicated he meant what he just said. Sam tensed for a brief second, but then he felt Dean smiling against his skin.

 

“Show me then, won't you?” Sam uttered, attacking Dean's mouth, right after the last words had left his lips. The rest of what took place was known to both men, for countless were the times they had made love. So, known, but somehow new, new and thrilling, amazing and loving it was. With Dean kissing Sam with every chance he would get, kisses slow and gentle, then hot and hungry, then gentle again, gentle, as if Dean had never experienced such joy before, not once in his life and thus he was treasuring it... Concealing Sam in the cocoon of his own arms and body, while Sam's legs were keeping them close, tided together...

 

And when Dean finally felt that Sam was prepared and stretched enough, he entered him, bottoming in one, slow, long thrust, making the man underneath him moan his name about a million times over. Then, in the heat of what they were sharing, Dean rasped for Sam to hold on to him tight and placed his strong hands behind Sam's back, gathering his brother up from the old desk and into his arms, managing to somehow hold his weight long enough to say a few words.

 

“I... Will always need you, love you, protect you... You've been enough Sam, you've always been enough for me...” Dean uttered, as he held Sam in his embrace, ignoring the intense cramping of his muscles. “Dean, I know, God shit Dean, I'm close...” The younger man muttered as Dean replaced him on the desk, while taking his pulsing cock in his one hand. Giving a few more thrusts, which were all hitting Sam's prostate, Dean felt Sam's inner muscles closing in around his own member and growled in his throat, as Sam's body seemed to literary, clenching onto Dean, for dear life. The very next second, Sam came with a shout, something along the lines of 'God' and 'Dean'. 

 

 

Came, in Dean's hand, shooting long white splashes of thick, warm cum all over, his face making an expression of utter bliss and happiness. And that was it, what took Dean over the edge. 'I would imagine you saying my name, I would imagine you cumming, your muscles clenching in around me, while you were literally, falling apart underneath me...' Dean heard his own voice saying, and as he dared to look, he saw this exact picture, Sam, shuddering underneath him, face blissful and calm, mouth ajar, eyes wide open, yet covered by a white veil, unable to really see anything but Dean. 

 

Dean, who claimed Sam's lips as he fell apart, Dean who came and came and came, filling Sam up to the very last inch while gently running his fingers of his free through messed up brown locks. Yeah, that was what he always did, and Sam knew it was his own chick-flick rule an equivalent to holding hands. Both men were left gasping for breath afterwards, with Dean using his arms so as to balance himself on the desk and not fall right on top of Sam, who was shaking like a leaf. Moments passed in silence, with hazel orbs looking straight into green ones, and it was only after Dean had gotten off of Sam, that the younger man spoke.

 

“Concupiscentia.” Sam muttered as Dean leaned close yet again. “Sorry, what?” He asked, face frowning. “You asked if I knew any words for what you're feeling. There is one word I can think of. It has Latin origins. 'Concupiscentia' gives us the word 'concupiscent', which means an ardent desire. Usually though, it's used to describe sexual desire, lust, hunger... So I guess I'll have to find another word.” Sam muttered and met Dean's gaze. 

 

 

The older man let out a small, but genuine laugh and shielded Sam's mouth. “'Love' works fine for me.” He said, and Sam was surprised he let it slip pass his lips so easily. “No, that's too plain, we need a better one.” He argued smiling, as he got up on his feet and wore his underwear and jeans. 

 

“How about... 'Fondness', sounds better, isn't that right, mister 'almost' lawyer?” Dean replied as he got Sam by the wrist and started walking towards his room. “No... Not that either, I mean... It's better, but still...” “Well, we have all night to search, don't we?” Dean questioned as they reached the door of his room, and Sam paused to look at his brother. “Guess we do.” He muttered as they entered the room. And before the door was completely shut behind them, a few more words were heard. “Sam... I love you. Plain, simple.” Dean said, and Sam smiled. “I know. And that's enough.” So, the door was shut, and the rest of the night found Sam and Dean in bed, making love time, and time again.

 

The early hours of the following day, along with the first rays of sunlight, found them lying together, limps all tangled up, sleeping peacefully... Because they loved each other. That was how things were, how they would always be. Plain, and simple.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it ends!! Really hope that you enjoyed it!! :) It is not checked by anyone else except me, so please do not hate me for my spelling mistakes....  
> Please leave a comment, if you want!!
> 
> Hope that you're doing great!  
> Love you all!  
> Until next time!  
> Usagi!! :)


End file.
